


Take Me High and I'll Sing

by QuillsAndInk



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:22:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5281898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillsAndInk/pseuds/QuillsAndInk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world had gone to hell. That's all Sam Winchester really knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me High and I'll Sing

Take Me High, And I’ll Sing

_Take me high,_

_And I’ll sing._

_Oh, you make everything,_

_Okay, okay, okay._

_Okay, okay, okay_

_We are,_

_One in the same._

_Oh, you take all of the pain,_

_Away, away, away._

_Away, away, away._

                                                ~My Demons, Starset

                The world had gone to hell. That was all Sam Winchester really knew. The angels were locked out of heaven, the demons were crawling out of hell by the hundreds, and he was stuck inside a bunker. More specifically, a largish cabin. The last bunker had been overrun with demons only a few days after the trial. His older brother, Dean could barely drag him into the Impala quick enough to escape with their lives.

                Castiel had joined them after that. The angel was disheveled. Humanity did not suit him. Dean had trouble getting him up most mornings. When Sam wasn’t delirious, he felt guilty for allowing his brother to deal with this in his own. Dean was slowly decaying. But soon, Sam would be in the throes of a seizure and unable to think about anything. And then he would come to, to find Dean cleaning his face of spittle, or rubbing the tension out of his shoulders. And then Castiel would wander by, looking like a lost puppy, and Dean would let the fallen angel sit on his lap. And they would just sit. Sam and Castiel needing Dean, and Dean trying to be strong and perfect.

                One morning, Sam found Dean painting symbols in his room.

                “What are you doing?” asked Sam weakly. Dean turned to him. His expression was hard and brave, but his eyes gave away his fear.

                “This probably won’t work. But I don’t know how else to save you two. I’m sorry, Sammy.” Sam’s gaze sharpened.

                “Dean, what are you doing?” Dean gave Sam a pained expression.

                “I’m opening the cage.” Sam fell back on the pillows of his bed as his muscles cramped

                “Dean… _no_...” Sam managed through gritted teeth. Dean looked at Sam and began to chant in Enochian. The painted symbols began to glow. Suddenly, the wall peeled away into a gaping hole that stank of sulfur. Hot air washed over Sam, but was just as quickly replaced by cold. Then all was still. Sam’s muscles slowly relaxed and he lifted his head. Lucifer stood at the foot of his bed. His startling blue eyes and his impeccable blonde hair made Sam shudder with memories. Beside him stood Michael, in Adam’s body. Sam thought sadly of the half-brother he had never known.

                “…So will you help?” Dean was asking. He looked harsh, with his best poker face on. Lucifer looked at Sam, with the gentlest of expressions. His body gave a little shudder with raw power. Sam pressed himself further back against his pillows. Lucifer turned to Dean, and Sam felt the room’s temperature chill several degrees.

                “Yes.” Lucifer’s voice was soft, but there was a note in it that bespoke his power.

                “You don’t get Sammy.” Dean said warningly. Lucifer blinked slowly, his expression turned predatory.

                “I don’t want him. Nick’s body will suffice. I will help you as thanks for freeing me from the cage…and I really hate Metatron.” At that, Lucifer walked over to the edge of Sam’s bed. He reached out a hand, slowly, as though he were trying to soothe a spooked horse. He touched Sam’s cheek, and all the pain and suffering from the trial left Sam. A physical black cloud swam out of Sam’s mouth and dissipated once it got close to Lucifer. As the tension bled from Sam’s muscles and the pounding in his head disappeared, Sam became aware of Lucifer’s thumb tracing gentle circles over his cheekbone. Lucifer was looking down at him with a soft expression. He allowed his hand to linger for a moment longer, before slowly removing it. He turned to Dean.

                “Michael and I will require weapons.” said Lucifer coolly.

                “Uh, yeah. Right this way.” said Dean.

                “And does our dearest baby brother know of our arrival?” asked Michael.

                “Yeah, he told me what to paint.” responded Dean.

                “Weapons.” said Lucifer firmly. Dean grumbled something under his breath, but led them out of the room. About fifteen minutes later, Lucifer reentered the room. Sam had been mindlessly searching the internet, and Lucifer captivated him immediately. Dressed simply in a leather shirt and cotton pants, he should not have been so interesting. Two angel blades hung at his hips, but that wasn’t it. ‘It’ was Lucifer’s wings. They were corporeal, and brilliantly white. But as they went down, feathers were replaced by angry flesh, and shredded, burnt primaries. Instead of the long white primary feathers, there was a of foot long projections of bloody and twisted quills that ended just beneath his buttocks. Sam’s ears went pink when he realized where he was looking and nonchalantly looked away.

                “They are supposed to be longer.” said Lucifer, as though he read Sam’s thoughts.

                _Probably did_ , thought Sam angrily.

                “Well, _now_ I am, you’re thinking too loudly for me to ignore.” said Lucifer, the hint of a smile settling on the corners of his lips.

                “Don’t look too proud of yourself.” Sam grumbled angrily        

“It was not I who tortured you in the cage, Sam.” said Lucifer, catching Sam off-guard.

                “Random much?” asked Sam. Lucifer waved an annoyed hand.

                “I tortured Adam.” Sam was surprised by Lucifer’s forwardness. Sam had nothing to say. It was as though Lucifer had devil mojo’d his vocal chords out.

                “I don’t like humans.” Lucifer continued after Sam failed to speak, “But I will never hurt you, Sam. Nor will I lie to you.” With that, Lucifer pushed himself off the wall on which he had been leaning and left Sam’s room. Sam blinked. What had _that_ been? Sam pondered Lucifer’s gentleness towards him. Could that mean that the devil was telling the truth? Sam shook his head, muttering ‘archangels’ under his breath. He tried to get back to brainlessly scrolling through the internet but his mind kept wandering back to Lucifer, his odd comment, his bones, his penetrating blue eyes, how lovely he looked in that tight leather shirt…ahem! Sam jostled himself from his thoughts and shut his laptop. He thought of talking to Dean, but he was probably wrapped around Castiel, and honestly Sam didn’t really want to see that. So he continued playing with his laptop, until he got bored and started reading the seventh Harry Potter book. About two hours later, there came a knock at the bunker door. Sam rushed to answer it, anything to break the monotony. Lucifer stood in the doorway looking a little bloody and battered. He smiled gently at Sam.

                “I have a gift for my brother.” Lucifer held out a small bottle filled with a swirling, silvery-white substance; angel grace. At that moment, Dean walked up behind Sam, his arm wrapped tightly around Castiel’s waist. Upon seeing the bottle, Castiel gave a small noise and took it carefully from Lucifer’s hand.

                “Brother, I…” Castiel began, before he was cut off with a wave of Lucifer’s hand.

                “Thank your lover. Metatron is imprisoned in my cage, and Michael is rallying the other angels to get back into heaven. He said that you are welcome to join his ranks, Castiel.”

                “No.” said Castiel firmly. Dean looked relieved. “No, my place is here, beside Dean.” Lucifer gave him a feral grin.

                “A love-sick angel. Who would have guessed?” Lucifer pushed past Sam, went into the living room area and settled himself on their battered sofa. He turned on their television and sighed when he found only three channels.

                “Sorry the pearly gates being closed is more important than cable.” said Dean a little defensively. Lucifer snapped his fingers and Sam’s cellphone was in his hand.

                “I will resolve this. I get bored easily.” He commanded Sam to bring his laptop and ordered him to look up the name of the nearest cable company.

                “Does it look like we’re made of money?” snarled Dean.

Lucifer sighed and looked at Castiel, who had the bottle filled with his grace clutched in his hand.

                “I find him trying, how do you put up with him?” Castiel glared. Lucifer turned away. “You may not be made of money, but I am.” said Lucifer simply. He looked over Sam’s shoulder, and dialed the number of the cable company on the screen. After he finished sweet talking the cable guy, Lucifer threw the phone back on to the sofa.

                “Entertain me.” he ordered Sam. Castiel and Dean had disappeared. The sound of something falling and breaking told Sam that Castiel was an angel once more.

                “Uh…” said Sam. How was he supposed to entertain the devil?

                “Read to me.” said Lucifer. Sam got up and grabbed the first Harry Potter book and sat back down. Haltingly he began to read. Lucifer gave Sam his rapt, undivided attention. Sam shifted uncomfortably under the heat of the blue stare.

                “You’re very bad at reading aloud.” commented Lucifer, “But I am amused by the images your mind creates.” Sam stared at him.

                “You’re reading my mind?” he asked incredulously. Lucifer nodded.

                “You aren’t guarding yourself from me, and I’m glad of it. But I won’t touch anything you don’t want me to.” Sam nodded.

                “You’re very forward aren’t you?” Sam spoke without harshness. Lucifer arched an eyebrow.

                “Would you prefer I lie?” Sam shook his head.

“That’s not what I meant. You just….you don’t sugar coat the truth, do you?”

“Would you like it if I did?” Lucifer cocked his head. Again, Sam shook his head.

“No. I was just making an observation.” said Sam quickly. Lucifer shook his head.

“Humans confuse me.” he waved an imperious hand “Continue reading.” and Sam did.

And that was that. Castiel stayed. Lucifer moved in. A few weeks later Kevin showed up and he stayed too. The angels seemed to make him nervous, but he rarely left his room. Lucifer devil mojo’d hundreds of books into the Winchester’s collection. Many of them were fiction, but a few were not. Lucifer made Sam read to him at every chance. He always complained that Sam was terrible to listen to, but the pictures Sam made in his mind as he did so were delightfully interesting. Once they had cable, Lucifer had created every movie or television show he could think of, and made Sam buy then a DVD player, so they could watch them. It became an evening ritual that after dinner (cooked by Dean) they would make popcorn and watch a movie. The next morning was often filled with a debate of which character was best. After the movie, they would clean up and get ready for bed. Sam would read for a while, then he would sleep until around one in the morning when he was awoken by a nightmare. He would shake and sweat, and occasionally vomit when the anxiety of losing everything overcame him. And then he would pass out until morning.

This evening was no different. Sam had been awoken by visions of Dean being attacked and dying from his wounds. He was shaking and panting and an ache had started in his stomach. Sam was about to go the bathroom and wait for the inevitable, when he heard a soft noise from the door. Lucifer stood in a tee shirt and sweats that Sam had bought for him at a nearby thrift shop. He walked slowly into Sam’s room, arms away from his sides and palms facing up, in a gesture that clearly meant the he didn’t want to hurt Sam. He pulled the chair from Sam’s desk and pulled it over to Sam’s bedside. Carefully, as he did to release Sam from the pain of the trial, he touched Sam’s cheek. But no black haze left Sam, only Lucifer stroking his cheek. And then Lucifer began to sing. It was a melody that Sam didn’t recognize and a language he couldn’t understand. He moved to press cheek firmly against Lucifer’s hand. Lucifer’s song ended, and he gently ruffled Sam’s hair, and got up to put the chair away. Lucifer was just about to leave when Sam whimpered a little ‘no’. Lucifer turned back to look at him. Sam _never_ got comfort. Dean always tried his best, but he couldn’t do what Lucifer did. He was simply too proud for it and Sam drew a line; they were brothers.

“Need something, Sam?” Lucifer’s quiet inquiry broke Sam’s thoughts.

“Stay.” Sam’s voice was throaty and he felt on the verge of tears. He sniffled a little, and

his cheeks coloured with embarrassment. He lowered his head.

“Sam, are you sure?” Sam was surprised; Lucifer was giving him an out. The _devil_ was not taking what he wanted. The predator was letting the prey escape.

“Y-yes.” Sam sniffled a little and a few tears escaped. Lucifer walked to the other end of the bed, lifted the covers and paused.

“I need to hear you say it one more time, Sam.” Lucifer spoke softly. Tears now ran freely down Sam’s cheeks.

“Y-yes.” he sniffed “S-stay, p-please.” And Satan slipped beneath the covers. He drew Sam in close to him and Sam buried his face in Lucifer’s neck.

“I used to have nightmares, Sam.” Sam barely heard him and cried harder. Hiccupy sobs came bubbling out of his mouth. His body jolted and he tucked himself even closer to Lucifer. The archangel just held Sam close. Sam gave a deep shuddering inhale. Lucifer smelled sharp and cold, like snow. Sam wept for another hour, before he fell asleep with Lucifer’s arms still around him.

The next morning, Sam awoke with Lucifer’s arms still wrapped around him. He immediately pulled away. Sam was sure he crossed a line. The devil had been suspiciously gentle with him but that did not mean that he wanted to hold Sam all night. Lucifer had said it himself, he hated humans. Lucifer looked lazily at Sam.

“Do you find my touch so unpleasant, Sam?” The silky voice startled Sam and he jumped badly.

“N-no.” he stammered “I thought you wouldn’t…”

“If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t have done it. Don’t presume to know me.” Lucifer cut him off sharply. “Now, I shall leave you in peace to change, or urinate, or…”

“ _Dude_.” complained Sam “ _Boundaries_!”

“And I will await you in the library, we shall talk more in depth there.” continued Lucifer as though Sam had never spoken. He slipped out of Sam’s bed, and silently padded away. Sam shook his head and got himself ready to face the day. Ten minutes later, Sam found Lucifer in a room that Lucifer had filled with books. Sam and Dean dragged a large sofa they found on the side of the road in there, and later added a desk and a few stolen lamps. The library was a small room, but the presence of books made it feel warm and cozy. Lucifer lounged on the sofa. Sam cleared his throat, and Lucifer looked over at him.

                “Come sit.” Sam sat beside Lucifer. Lucifer elegantly tucked one leg beneath him.

                “Look, I’m sorry…” began Sam, but Lucifer waved an airy hand and Sam quieted down immediately.

                “You are very intriguing, Sam. I don’t like humans. You are repulsive, foul beings. Less so than demons, but I suppose you cannot help what you are. In any case, I will not bow down to you, or worship you as I was asked to all those years ago. However, I find you to be the very best your species has to offer. I am not utterly repulsed by you. Now,” Lucifer abruptly changed the subject. He handed Sam _A Tale of Two Cities_ “I believe we were on chapter fourteen.”

                A new routine began for Sam. Well it was the same routine, but instead of nightmares, he and Lucifer simply slept in each other’s arms. And that was it. It wasn’t love, or even like, or that was what Sam told himself. He wasn’t falling for the devil. Of course not, no. They simply sought mutual (Sam flattered himself) comfort from each other. Sam wouldn’t dream of it, with all he’d been through. Not like those icy blue eyes had any effect on…oh, hell. During the day, as Sam tried to convince himself that he wasn’t falling in love, a small treacherous part of his brain wondered when this had happened. Then at night, after Sam brushed his teeth, he’d find Lucifer on his bed, in a tee shirt that is just a bit too tight in all the right places and Sam realized he couldn’t breathe and he had to fight the urge to run his hands up and down the gorgeous chest.

One evening was no different. Sam went through his usual bedtime routine, before sliding under the covers and being enveloped by Lucifer’s arms.

                “You are incredibly ignorant.” commented Lucifer. Sam, who had been close to falling asleep, grunted and raised his head.

                “What now?” he asked, shaking his sleep addled brain. Lucifer looked at him amusedly.

                “How could not think I felt the same way?”

                “What?” choked Sam, now fully awake. Lucifer sighed, but a small smile graced his lips.

                “Long before your ancestors were even an afterthought, it was destined that you would be my vessel. And I hated that, as I said humans are foul and cruel, and I didn’t want to be caged in your loathsome little body. But then I came to know you, Sam. And though you are still that awful breed, you’re different. I suppose it was only natural that I’d fall for you.”

                “Wait, wait.” said Sam, his heart fluttered, hardly daring to hope “You’re…you’ve…” Lucifer sighed again, but not ill-temperedly.

                “Yes, I’m in love with you.” With that, he lowered his lips to Sam’s. Sam was startled, but he didn’t pull back. Lucifer raised a hand and cupped his cheek and thumbed lightly over Sam’s cheekbone. Lucifer made a soft noise and Sam parted his lips. Lucifer tasted cold, like fresh snow. Lucifer pulled away from Sam to kiss his cheek. Then, he laid back down. Sam followed his lead and tucked his head beneath Lucifer’s chin.

                “Are you my boyfriend now?” asked Sam, his voice muffled by Lucifer’s neck. He could not contain the goofy grin that spread across his face.

                “I prefer lovers.” responded Lucifer. His voice was thick and slurred, as though he were going to fall asleep. It was a ruse, Sam knew. The all-powerful fallen archangel did not sleep nor did he need to. But he would pretend, for Sam’s sake.

                “Boyfriends.” said Sam, giddy with it all. Lucifer huffed in irritation, but said nothing. Sam kissed him. Lucifer smirked into his lips. He broke away from Sam only to press his mouth to Sam’s ear.

                “Rest now. I’ll pleasure you tomorrow.” Sam blushed. Lucifer’s cold breath tickled his cheek. Lucifer’s scent, cold and clean washed over Sam. There was a note of something _else_ , something powerful like bottled stars about him. Lucifer’s skin was cool, but Sam nestled into him all the same.

And that was that. The world has still gone to hell. The angels were still locked out of heaven. Demons were still crawling out of hell by droves. But, somehow, things were better. Dean was happier than ever. Well, at least not falling apart. Castiel still needed him, but that was okay, Sam supposed. Dean needed to be needed. And Castiel wasn’t ungrateful, if the loud moans from their shared room was any indicator. Kevin at least had a roof over his head, and people to be with. That was good enough for now. And Sam. Well, he had the devil in his bed. To chase away nightmares and now, a whole new possibility of other things. And as the damaged remnants of Lucifer’s wings materialized and settled over Sam, he wondered if he might not be helping the fallen archangel as well. The world had gone to hell, but as far as the Winchester family, adopted, honorary and otherwise, were concerned, there was peace.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural, or the characters used or the lyrics therein. All rights go to Eric Kripke, the CW, and the band Starset. I claim only the plot and I make no money from this story.


End file.
